Tiny Triumphs on Tiny Buddha

(Picture source)

April 6, 2013- I woke up to an influx of emails, Facebook friend requests, followers on Twitter, and hits on my blog. Confused, in my half-awake haze, I sift through them trying to figure out if maybe I had been spammed.

Then it hit me. "My submission to tiny buddha must have gone live!"

I check the site, and sure enough, there it was; my first piece published on a site that is not owned by a friend.

Throughout the course of the day I was able to interact with people from all over the world who had read my post. I never would have expected such a massive positive response. I was honored and humbled to read stories of similar loss, of travel and adventure, of starting over again, of newfound passions and joys...

Did that just happen?

Did I really finally put a piece of my writing out there for the world to see?

Did I really just connect with people from all over the world because of the blog post (Finding What We're Missing: Our Lives Are Already Complete) I submitted?

It may seem like no big deal to many, but for a girl who has been too afraid to put something she loves so much out into the open, it was huge. 

Yesterday a friend said to me, "You hold yourself back from putting your writing out there, even though you've wanted to do it for half your life and've been told that it's good, but on the other hand you'll leave your life and job here and head out into the unknown..."

It took me the next 15 hours or so to process that, and this afternoon I finally admitted to myself (and him) that yep, I've definitely been spending a lot of time and energy avoiding that one thing my heart has been telling me to do for years.

The funny thing about fear is that it sounds exceptionally rational. In my head, "I want to be a writer" sounded horrifically similar to saying, "I wanna be a rockstar." That in conjunction with my underlying insecurities ranging from, "I have nothing worth saying" to "Of course my friends and family say I write well- they're supposed to say that. Maybe they just don't really know what good writing looks like..." joined together to keep me silent.

So, I set out to do everything but write.

It has taken me years of floundering, miserable jobs, hopeless looking nights, traveling to other countries, and moving across the U.S. to finally set the stage to have the realization that in spite of saying I wasn't running away from myself, I really was.

What? Shit. Really? Yep.

Now what?

I keep going in spite of all the old lingering fears and the new ones creeping in. I keep putting myself out there and believe that what I have to offer just might help someone else. I believe that I deserve to do what I love.

When I say I was running from myself, I am by no means saying that all of the steps leading up to this moment were superfluous. On the contrary, each and every step was entirely necessary to reach this point. And oddly, I wasn't running from my problems- I was running from my talents.

What the hell was I supposed to do if I put them out there and they didn't fail, but succeeded? It's easier to rationalize a failure than a success. When you succeed, you have to own your strength, your beauty, your brilliance, and your responsibility to humbly offer what you have to give. 

And for someone who has struggled with feeling the need to be worth the space she inhabits, it's much easier to be a failure and recede into the comfort of anonymity than to own up and face my own light.

This milestone was confirmation that there is a path that I must follow. My sister and I discussed that perhaps instead of thinking about life in terms of goals and how we want it to look, we should shift our focus onto how we want it to feel. I had a vague idea of how I wanted to feel day to day, but no idea what would draw that into my life... until now.

Writing makes the hours feel like minutes. It combines everything I love into one package that I can share with others, and in turn, it returns to me with a profound sense of accomplishment, value, and peace. And what's more, it is beginning to bridge a gap by drawing in like-minded people who amaze me with their own incredible stories.

This is the first time in my life I've thought, "This is it. This is what I want to feel like every day." I want to be connecting with other people and making the world seem just a little less lonely for all of us. I want to be a hub for sharing inspiration, motivation, and encouragement.

Who knew such a seemingly insignificant act would draw in the energy needed for me to finally work through yet another one of my long-lived fears.

Here's to pursing our true love and passion (even if/when it takes us years to face it), and to each and every one of you who inspires me to keep going.

Cheers.

The Art of Space

To put the world in order, 

We must first put the nation in order;

To put the nation in order, 

We must put the family in order; 

To put the family in order,

We must cultivate our personal life;

And to cultivate our personal life,

We must first set our hearts right.

-Confucius

What if revolutionizing the world lies in our personal relationships- with ourselves and the people with whom we interact everyday? What if it starts unintentionally in a casual setting because there's space for conversation to organically carve the way through to what matters most to each one of us?

What if leaving open time and space instead of setting rigid agendas and goals is what we need to cultivate creativity and accelerate innovation?

What if setting goals actually inhibits our ability to unabashedly reach for our dreams by overly narrowing our focus?

I'm not saying that we should never set goals or agendas, nor am I suggesting that we should sit around silently doing nothing. 

What I am saying is that so often we frantically run around attempting to force improvements, conversations, advances, relationships, revolutions- when in reality what we need is to create an environment where people are able to just be- just be- just for a moment. I realize it seems counterintuitive. I'm asking you to, instead of looking and sounding busy every.single.second, sit still, be silent, and allow all of the genius swirling around inside of you have a moment to materialize and manifest naturally in its own time.

Have you ever noticed that some of your best ideas and most profound epiphanies don't come when you're being told to conjure them on command, but instead surface in some of the most unexpected moments when you're doing something else- showering, riding a bike, talking with a friend over a beer (or froyo, as was the case when this entire train of thought initially began).

There's great value in goal setting. I also believe there's immeasureable value in allowing open space for the unexpected to occur. 

Last week, I asked a friend what was important to him. His response? Leisure. 

My initial reaction was, "really?," but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that perhaps he's got it right. Leisure, from what I took from his response, is that open space to bring people together and just be. From there, a multitude of experiences and conversations have room to unfold in a way they'd never be able to in a structured setting.

I'm about to ask a mind blowing question. Ready?

What if our work/jobs don't have to have the goal of being revolutionary world-changing phenomenons? What if it's ok that what we do to make money isn't necessarily something we're passionately obsessed with, but simply serves as a means to sustain what we are passionately obsessed with? What if that could be just as effective in contributing to a brighter and happier world because a bunch of people are cultivating joy in their lives albeit not through a job? What if learning to balance acceptance and contentment with where we are and striving for more is how we change the world? What if changing the world shouldn't be our focus at all?

Allow me to make one thing clear: those whose work is their obsession- that's awesome. But for those of us who haven't found that niche, are we to constantly feel like unfulfilled failures because we can't proclaim the glories of our profession to the world? I get the argument that our jobs take up a very large percentage of our lives so we should do something that we enjoy, but my point is that we could spend a very large portion of our lives feeling like failures always looking for the next thing while searching for our bliss. That seems like a grand waste of time to me. Maybe it's ok to be ok (happy, even) where we are while being open to other possibilities.


That said, I'm also not saying that we should stay in miserable soul-sucking-spirit-crushing jobs just for the money either. There has to be a worthwhile balance.


I ask this because it is a journey I've been exploring, and the answer I've arrived at? 

No. Not knowing does not equate to failure.

Have I found my calling yet? Nope. Is that ok? Yep. I've had some pretty incredible experiences on the journey along the way. I've learned lessons that I wouldn't trade for the world.

What if I never find a way to reconcile what I love to do with how I pay my bills? 

I think that's ok as long as we keep making space to do what we love- to do what makes us happy and makes the hours fly by as though they were seconds.

And who knows? Maybe in that space, an unexpected transition will happen and we'll find that what we love and our work become indistinguishable from each other.

What's the point of all of this? Simply, that while setting out to change the world sounds like a righteous goal, maybe changing the world starts with us learning to make our own tiny universes better by loving each other and ourselves to the best of our ability by being true to what we believe and know is best for our lives instead of being governed by what we are told we "should" do- even when it sounds noble. Maybe it's ok to sit back and enjoy being around each other without feeling as though we need to charge out and save the world as our profession. Who knows, a life-changing-world-altering idea could come out of nowhere, or maybe, we'll form closer stronger bonds with those around us.

Maybe that's where revolution really begins.

Goal-Setting

I ask my students to set goals. I help them form measurable, realistic, and timely goals for themselves.

One would think it would be easy to set some for myself; however, upon being asked to give 2 for the year, I came up blank... and have continued to do so for the last week. Why is the simplistic sounding question, "What do you want to learn and/or accomplish this year?" as difficult for me to answer as "What do you want?"

Initially, I thought perhaps it was because I hadn't figured out what I wanted to be when I grew up, but then I eventually came to the conclusion it's partially because I've invested so much of my time focusing on helping others, I've forgotten to give myself a little attention. The other, possibly bigger, part of the story is that a lot of my life has been spent just trying to get through the day I'm in; I'm not used to stepping back and thinking in terms of the long(ish) distance future.

But here I am at 28 years old learning that maybe, just maybe, my life will extend beyond the day, week, month, and even year I'm in. It's time to learn it's ok to dream and plan for the future- even if those dreams and plans change a billion times as my life progresses.

Goals are important. They give milestones to reach for, and a framework for future endeavors. They make the abstract more tangible, and assist in propelling momentum towards accomplishment of even bigger goals.

So in these quiet hours, I'm asking myself, "What do you want to learn and accomplish this year?"

1. I will continue writing in a way that is productive, integrative, and introspective (possibly even published outside of my own blog)- at least 4 journal/blog entries a month until the fellowship year ends.
2. I will learn to communicate more effectively through daily interactions with staff and students, weekly check-ins with my supervisors, and weekly meetings with  my housemates. 

Nothing particularly profound, but baby steps towards answering the broader more difficult question of, "What do you want?"

For now, I don't quite have an answer to that question, but perhaps I will by the end of the year.

To be continued...